


Keep You Warm

by tiptopevak



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M, Sick Fic, alec is sick and sniffly OH MY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:45:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8781676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptopevak/pseuds/tiptopevak
Summary: "You're so cranky.."Alec's head drops to nestle in against the crook of Magnus' neck, where the warmth is silky."... And sweet, when you're sick."





	

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST REALLY ENJOY & APPRECIATE & LOVE SMOL FERVERISH ALEC HE IS MY SON
> 
> also on tumblr: http://teapotmalec.tumblr.com/post/154168564171/keep-you-warm

Alec hovers at the fringe of the living room, cold toes curling against the carpet.

“And _so_ , he lives,” singsongs Magnus upon spotting him. He leafs closed the book in his lap and pushes up off of the couch. “Your sneezing was deafening me. Sounded too similar to the _plague.”_

Alec scrunches his nose, eyebrows furrowing- and _sniffles_ thick and sickly into the blanket he’s wrapped tight around himself.

“Shudd _up_ ,” he huffs out. Twists his blanket closer, like a shield. He’s glaring, eyes full with sleepy flames, but when he opens his mouth to speak again, his ribs are wracked by a cough. Once, twice, three times, _four_ times. It startles his bones, sends star splaying around his head.

“It sounds like you’re actually trying to bring up a lung, Alexander,” with a gentle palm resting between his heaving shoulder blades, cool against his sweat-sticky shirt and feverish skin.

“Shud-“ He wheezes, breathless, “- _up_.”  

“Oh, hush,” Magnus croons. He helps ease Alec upright again a few moments later, one hand on his back and the other steadying him by the elbow. Then, quietly, “Definitely the plague.”

Alec’s scowl is renewed. “It’s _not_ , it-” but he loses his words to a wet, hacking sound. Magnus, despite his teasing, rubs a soothing path up and down his back.

“Shudd _up_. Not the plague.” He leans an inch closer to him anyway, swaying in towards the warmth of Magnus’ open chest like it’s an invitation. Magnus rolls his eyes, draws him in closer by wrapping an arm gently around him.

“You’re so cranky,” he says, sitting them down on the couch. Alec’s head drops to nestle in against the crook of Magnus’ neck, where the warmth is like silk, and Magnus combs the curls of damp, wispy hairs back from Alec’s temples. Backs of his knuckles stroking the cherry-red fever high in Alec’s cheeks, “And sweet, when you’re sick.”

Alec snuffles, lets his eyes dripdrop tiredly.

 “Shuddup.”


End file.
